Not So Tender Any Longer
by Traces of Sun
Summary: His sister has been gone for long. So long. When she arrives back in town after years, what could she possibly want to do more than listen to Demyx pour his heart out? Because he's her little brother. And he really needs it. Zemyx.
1. Prologue & Floating

Prologue : Welcome Home

You. It's almost impossible to believe that you've been gone for so damn long.

Sis, the last time I saw you was when I was six. I was almost ready to classify you as a long-lost sibling.

Fuck, it really has been a long time. You seem so different from how I remember you, but it has been 11 years, give or take. You must be – what? 25? 26?

You tell me that these 11 years have been a whirlwind for you. You've been a waitress, a librarian, an environmentalist, a baker, a door-to-door salesgirl, an animal tamer and so much more. You've seen Mount Everest and climbed halfway up K2. You can speak fluent French and some German and when you were 19 you had an American accent. You directed your own shaky-cam horror movie and only ever showed it to the three thirty-something year-old men you met somewhere between Italy and Austria.

I almost didn't recognise you when you came and sat next to me on this bird shit-covered park bench and watched me cry my poor little eyes out, but I recognised your smell (because I'm cool like that). You smell like you've just burnt a pizza in the oven and you've been cleaning the soot off the ceiling for the whole day (It totally beats me why you still smell that way). A tantalizing mixture of carbon and fairy liquid. But it's comforting, like I'm the one who's coming home for the first time in more than a decade.

I've missed you like it's _nobody's _business. We hug and we laugh and you cry, and I cry a little bit more. 'Why did you leave?' I asked you, and you reply with a sly glance and a sniff. So I guess you're never going to tell me the real reason ('To find myself' is not an acceptable answer). Was it Mum and Dad? I know you were a teenager and you guys weren't the best of friends, but did you really have to leave because of them? Were there too many bad memories here? Was it the bad weather? Whatever it was, I wish you'd at least hung around till I passed my Grade 1 recorder exam with a merit (Boy, was I proud). We would have had a sleepover in your room, and you probably would have told me the story about the monster who lived in the playground and ate little kids' brains for dinner (I wouldn't have been able to sleep, but it would've been well worth it).

As I'm sure you noticed, since you left, the town and the people have had a makeover. On occasion, I like to think that you were the one who started off the trend – not that there were anymore runaways. People just became more...exciting, and truthful about themselves, I guess. Did you know that Mr. Nico who used to live down the street used to be a NASCAR driver? He actually moved away just so he could have a garden with space for a dirt track. We visited him once, me and Axel did.

You say you want to know what's been up with me. And so I'm going to tell you about my own little whirlwind. I'm telling you why I'm on this park bench, alone, crying, hurt, broken. It's a story about trust (and how sometimes even it can't overcome fear). Because of him, I've learnt so many things. So many important life lessons. But I think it might all be over.

And I'm going to hope and pray that you know what the fuck I'm meant to do. Because I don't know anymore.

_I just don't know._

Chapter 1 : Floating 

I first realised I liked boys at the oh-so-tender age of eleven. Being of the lucky ones, my voice didn't have the indecency to start breaking so early. You see, at that time, I was a key member of the school choir – yeah, I liked to flaunt that high F. The boys to girls ratio in my school was already pretty messed up, so I was one the four treasured male voices. Things fell into place, and most of my closest friends ended up being girls. Being in the company of girls for the majority of my last year of primary school meant that I giggled and gossiped and checked out guys more than the average eleven-year-old boy does.

I guess the very moment that I realised it was a beautiful May afternoon. The boys' changing room. There was this one boy in my class (I forget his name) – he was a _total _fitness freak, which meant he was nice to look at. He was kind of shy without his usual gang of buddies surrounding him. He was pretty too – long eyelashes, amazing amber eyes. Anyway, everyone else had cleared out of the room for registration, leaving us with only each other for company. I didn't know what I was waiting for. I didn't know what he was waiting for. I don't think he knew what he was waiting for either. Somehow, we ended up kissing for the entirety of five seconds. All we really did was push our lips together. But that was all it took for me to realise that I didn't want to kiss the girls (and make them cry). I wanted to kiss the boys.

I didn't break the news to our parents until I was nearly fifteen, and was afraid that my sexuality was painfully obvious anyway. (It seems a truly impossible feat for a man to hide behind his Barbie dolls for so long in a time such as this). Dad was a little _too _accepting – it was his pleasure to entertain me with a tale about his gay (third) cousin (once removed) for two or so hours following my rushed confession. It took that same amount of time for my mother to accept that she was never going to have any biological grandkids (at least from me) – "But Demyx you are a planning on adopting, aren't you?" At least Mum believed in the potential of my love life. A stark contrast to my own opinion of it.

Of course there had been fleeting love affairs – stolen kisses in the bushes, lingering touches during science investigations, quick fucks after a party, experimentations in toilet stalls. Still, at the not-so-tender age of seventeen, I had no history of serious boyfriends to speak of. Not one.

"Not even that Leon guy?"

Not even him.

"What about Xemnas?"

That had never _really _been a relationship. In retrospect, that guy had practically been a cradle snatcher.

"And what about me?"

"Axel," I laughed, "Don't even go there! You know the score."

"Yeah, yeah. I've got it memorised, dude. So where're we off to tonight?"

I was with two of my closest friends: Axel and Roxas. Axel's about 6'6" and has some pretty rockin' hair – flaming red. Roxas is one of the shorter members of our generation. If I had to describe him in one word, I'd say...SUNSHINE.

We were doing what I do best. Floating. Floating at the crossroads. I looked to the left and I saw the vast expanse of road that leads to nowhere in particular. I looked to my right and I saw the shadow of the research centre. But that's not what we were there for. We were standing between uptown (Roxas' comfort zone) and downtown (Axel's beat). Polar opposites. _Which way are we off to tonight? There's only one way to decide._

I abandoned the relative safety of the pavement, and threw myself out onto the street where the ground was rougher and the air was cooler. Then I spun and spun and spun until I couldn't spin anymore, and I had that feeling of a thousand tiny newts trying to crawl up my oesophagus. When I stopped, I stretched my arm out and pointed like my life depended on it.

"Downtown it is!" Axel started to walk off without us.

As I was still recovering from my ultimate spinning feat, Roxas had a conflict of loyalties. "I...But...Wait up, Axel!" And he sprinted off down the road after the redhead, leaving me clutching my stomach in mock pain. _With friends like these, who needs enemies?_

"Yeah! You better run! Ugh...Before I puke on you!"

Any wanderer who passed us might've thought we were underage (courtesy of Roxas) and/or drunk, taking to the streets after a long night of partying – but they'd only be partly right (the 'party' was more of a..._gathering._ And we're all too broke to afford alcohol anyway). Someone who looked a little closer, and maybe squinted a bit, might've seen three teens with some not-so-serious troubles, just trying to escape from reality. Maybe with some X-ray glasses, they'd see us for what we really were: one flamer who needs to be put on a leash; one bisexual pyromaniac who doesn't want the attention, he _needs _the attention; and one unsure factor whose life got started a little too late. We were the three musketeers – minus the swords, because Axel doesn't believe in the power of violence. (Only the wisdom of flames.)

The three of us carried on floating into downtown. The High Street is lined with grey buildings, spruced up with a flower basket every few steps you take. By day, they stare at the bright colours we wear like we're aliens. By night, they holler from a mile away and high-five when we pass.

There's everyone's favourite hobo, Lex, who we bump fists with when we pass Silverman Street. Next on our tour, we met Vexen: living proof that achieving your dreams isn't everything. Half a mile down, Saïx was chatting with Xigbar outside the co-op. Xigbar waved. I noticed he had a different eye patch on that day – it had a white stripe down the middle. I briefly wondered if there was any significance to it, but quickly forgot about it. Saïx nodded to us in that businessman-like fashion he always has, but he's still looking as lost as ever.

Roxas did something a little out of the ordinary then. Roxas stopped next to Saïx, and said to him, "I hope you find what you're looking for." I was immensely confused, but suddenly I saw Saïx's eyes become more alive than they've ever been. Only for the shortest of moments though, as he whipped his head around.

Roxas has always been a curious one (for as long as I've known him, anyway). When he first arrived in the town he was like a lost puppy. Bless his little ol' heart. His twin brother was there – had always been there for him; but it was me and Axel who gave him a refresher course in Life (and for the record, I think Axel has been crushing on him since the beginning, but keep it a secret, yeah? Pinky promise?). Rox is like the cherry on an ice cream sundae – he looks so sweet, and almost untouched. But he doesn't really get everything. All he can he see the surface. (One day, that ice cream is totally gonna melt for him. And he'll be able to experience all of that vanilla-y goodness for himself. One day).

A little further on and we literally hit the jackpot (Okay! Okay! Figuratively!). We're allowed inside the arcade, but I swore on Axel's life to Luxord that if we won anything big we'd give it back. And that's happened more than once or twice before. The arcade's always going through a hard time moneywise. The weight of responsibility has been placed upon most teens' heads already. (Sincerest apologies responsibility – I didn't get the memo).

So we strolled into FINAL FANTASY XIII like we owned the place and survey the crowd. The usuals are all crowded around their usual spots. But there was an unusual addition, whispering away to Luxord like he's never heard of tomorrow. On any other day I would've...On any other day, I'd sing or dance or exclaim how drop dead gorgeous I thought he was. (But that day, I had a near death experience – I totally almost cracked my head open on the springboard in PE, so I was keeping it cool. Playing it safe).

And so I sauntered over to the slot machines like I hadn't fallen in love at first sight. Or at least I tried to. I've never learnt to saunter, but I do have some serious skills in the art of tripping.

So I'm on the floor. On my face. And my so-called friends were laughing their asses off behind me, and so was Luxord behind his desk. But I heard these footsteps coming towards me. And I wondered if my heart was still beating.

"Would you...like some help?"

But I knew it was still going because the _thump thump thump _was the only thing I could hear.

"Excuse me? Are you okay?"

And my heart was in my mouth and I just couldn't find the strength to move and look away from those heavy-looking black boots of his, so I said, "Your shoes are awesome," and spiralled the rest of the way into my own personal abyss.

_Smooth Demyx. Smooth._

_

* * *

_

If we back up a bit; after I fell in love (Exaggeration FTW!), but before I ruined my chances, we would find Axel with his eyes glinting and his brain on overdrive. If I was concentrating, I might've seen the smoke pouring out of his ears and the alarms going off. There was a reason (apart from the pyromania) that kids ran when they saw him in the hallways. He is omniscient. All-seeing. All-knowing.

Logic is his game. Your body language gives you away. A scratch and a glance outside a classroom means you just cheated on a mega-important test. Blackmail worth 2 packs of cigarettes or a week of being his personal slave.

Walking into school smelling like Lynx: Dark Temptation means one of three things.

1 – You're dying to impress.

2 – You've been out all night, obviously doing something relatively dodgy and you nipped round to a friend's house this morning after you woke up on the roof of the drugstore.

Or 3 – Sex, drugs, rock 'n' roll and Marluxia.

He can tell which one by the way you walk. Black mail worth 1- 4 packs of cigarettes or a relatively embarrassing dare. (Me, Mars and Rox really need to have an intervention about his smoking).

So obviously, when he saw me hesitate and blink a little _too _slowly, he knew something had to be done. Maybe he did it for me (Axel: Pioneer of the Campaign for Human Happiness). Maybe he did it for himself (Axel: the Devil's Apprentice). Whichever way, Axel stuck his foot out in front of me before I even got the swing in my hips.

* * *

Back to the pseudo present, and I'd graciously decided to take my one true love's hand. And I realised that this was probably the only chance I'd get to touch him. Ever. So I savoured the moment, and let go when we were far _far_ into the awkward zone.

He's had this tremendous blue fringe which covers most of his face, and the most gorgeous deep blue eyes I've ever seen. The half of his face I could see (although handsome) unsettled me slightly. Even Axel couldn't read this one.

He had these red skinny jeans on, and boy, were they _tight. _How can he even walk? He's so skinny. So skinny-I-can-wrap-a-hand-around-your-wrist-easily. Maybe he's too skinny. Or maybe he's perfect.

"Are you...alright?"

Perfect.

"Don't mind him. It's probably just brain damage or something."

"Do you...think we should take him to the hospital?"

"Oh no! He'll be _fine_! Anyway, haven't seen you around here before. You from outside of town?"

"Yes, I recently moved in with my cousin."

"Really? Cool. What's your cousin's name? We might know 'em."

"Marluxia. Marluxia De-"

"Marluxia! He's like our best friend! Isn't he, Rox?"

"He always shares his lunch with me."

"Yep, that's our Mars. Always a giver."

So I snapped out of it by the time _he _said Marluxia, but it's always interesting to listen to a conversation you haven't had express permission to listen to. And I might be wanting to hear his voice again.

"Yes. I'm going to start going to Hollow High School when term starts. Maybe I'll see you there."

"We walk to school with Mars every day, don't we Rox?"

"Sometimes he lets me share his muffin."

"So, what's your name?" Axel asks him.

"I'm Zexion."

"This is Roxas. And I'm Axel, nice to me-"

And I don't listen anymore because I've heard his name and it's just too beautiful. It sounds exotic. _Zexion_. Zexion...and Demyx. I silently pray to the God I want to believe in that I will hear someone say that one day.

"DEMYX!"

"WHA?" _Why did he have to wake me up from my daydream? I was thoroughly enjoying imagining the colour scheme for our first apartment together._

"Meet Zexion. Our new best bud. He's in our class and everything!"

"He said he thinks you're weird."

I could tell this was the start of something beautiful.

"He said he thinks you're hair's cool too."

_Maybe it really is. _

* * *

_Hiya..._

_So... 'Experimentation' isn't a word...but it sounds more exciting that 'experiment'! That alone gives me the right to use it.  
_

_Review? Constructive criticism? Please? :)  
_


	2. Startup

Chapter 2: Startup

Luxord is a very distant cousin of Marluxia's, which means he's also a very distant cousin of Zexion's (More distant? Less distant? I wouldn't know). That night, instead of trying our luck on the slots, we relaxed in a room marked **EMPLOYEES ONLY** in thick black letters. A whole bunch of colourful furniture lives in there, even though there are only three full time employees. Rox dramatically collapsed onto a cold looking leather sofa, and took a deep breath.

"Hey sunshine," Axel sat down on the end of the sofa, "Why so glum? You tired?"

"A bit," Roxas smiled slightly with his eyes still closed, like he was having a nice dream. "Just the usual. I..It doesn't matter. You probably would want to hear about it."

"Rox, remember what I always say."

"Um...Got it memorised?"

"No. Not that," Axel replied playfully, raising an eyebrow.

"Er...Fire is man's best friend."

"Not that either."

Roxas sighed and opened his eyes just a bit, a tad bit, to squint at Axel. "It always better in than out. Unless it's a veggie burger."

"Congrats! Now, tell me what's up." The redhead rested his hand on Roxas' knee, and I thought I saw him visibly relax. It's crazy when you see- (What? What do you mean, you want to hear about _my _love life? Well, I was just getting there, actually...)

"Fine..."

Meanwhile, my future husband and I sat ourselves down on a ridiculously silky loveseat against the opposite wall. We have one of those conversations that no one is going to remember afterward. It starts with the recent weather, moving on to school and 'A' levels and blah blah blah. Then why Zexion was there. Then why we were there. And I guess I didn't really care about the abyss anymore when I questioned him about his sexuality.

So sue me, I forget that "Are you gay?" Isn't really suitable small talk for a person you've just met. Zexion was blushing like he wanted out right there and then. And I couldn't say that I wanted him to have that look on his face, but _Man, is that cute_.

He mumbled something behind his fringe. _I wonder what his hair smells like._

"Pardon?"

"I've...uh...never really known. I've never...done anything...with anyone. Not really."

I thought _I'm sorry..did he just say he wasn't sure?_ At this age, I think a boy really should know which team he bats for. (Unless he's a little blond sweetie pie named Roxas. There are no more exceptions to the rule).

"Ever had an identity crisis?" I threw at him.

"What?"

"Amnesia?" _There's gotta be a reasonable answer to this._

"I don't...think that this is relevant."

"Who's better looking: Katy Perry or Ewan McGregor?"

"Well, I think Katy Perry is quite pretty..."

_Wrong answer!_ Another question...

"What size are those jeans?" (Not that that's important. I just really wanted to know.)

"A 28, I think." _(The Author doesn't know what a small size in dudes' trousers is...)_

And then it was time for the _ultimate_ question.

"Do you think Brokeback Mountain was hot?" Yes corresponds to gay (or being a girl).

"Demyx!"

"...Yes or no?"

"I...I-I refuse to answer that question."

So I gave up for a bit.

If you've haven't noticed already, I'm quite the talker. I could talk for Hollow Bastion. Not that it's a big dream of mine, but a guy's gotta have a backup plan or two, right? Professional talker is right above lion tamer and right below working at a music store on my list of preferred professions.

"Guys," Roxas cut into the (probably) awkward silence. "Do you want to get something to eat? It's almost eleven, and I have to be back by twelve." This is Roxas speak for 'I'm practically starving here and I want a veggie burger or two, but if you're too busy for me I can deal with the immense abdominal pain if it would make you happy'. And he smiled that innocent smile at the end like I don't have a Roxas to English translator in my head.

"Who wants burgers?" Axel grinned.

That night, I learnt that sometimes people don't actually tell the truth under a load of pressure. There's this game you can play, where a friend gives you two choices and you have to choose one right away. But I guess, really, they'll just choose a random one, since they aren't _allowed _to put any thought into it. Zexion actually thought Ewan McGregor was fitter.

* * *

That was the penultimate day of our six week summer. Our last decent break before we were supposed to immerse ourselves into education, for the final year that would 'shape our futures'. _I don't think so. _I don't like to think that what I do this year will affect my entire life. I'm actually planning on taking the hits as they come. Maybe I just need more motivation or something.

This was the last year I'd be living at home with the 'parental units'. I love them through and through, but I've got to escape this place sometime.

On the last day of summer I made a timetable that did not involve stepping out of the house. The last day of summer is forever dedicate to locating school uniform, finishing homework, contemplating life in general and avoiding all forms of social networking (so I'll have things to catch up with on the first day). I managed to finish the majority of my unwritten to do list, but there's always a snag. The knowledge of how to do up a tie had escaped me. This called for an early morning sprint to Marluxia's.

Mars is like the older brother I never had. The ridiculously irresponsible, but caring, older brother. At the front of his house is a surprisingly beautiful garden, filled with flowers I never even heard of before he gave me a lecture on them. I threw pebbles at his bedroom window like they do in the movies, and a crash and a thump or two sounded, accompanied by some profanities, before a frazzled Mars opened the window. "...the fuck?"

"Did you forget about school?"

"You _neek._ It's only 7! I've got at least an hour left..."

"Mars! Please! I need help with my tie!"

"Oh...fine then. Let yourself in. Just don't make too much noise, I think my cousin is still asleep."

_Now is not the time to think about my future with my soul mate. Now is not – Oh, who gives a crap? I've already named our cat._

And it's also kind of hard to not think about your crush when he's standing right in front of you.

Zexion was standing in the doorframe of the front door, squinting at me through heavy lidded eyes. Clad in a blue vest and some plain black PJ bottoms. He didn't look like happiness and rainbows, but honestly I couldn't tell if he was happy to see me or not. His face looked like he was still deep in dreamland.

"Good morning, Demyx," he said as he flicked some of his hair from his face. His voice was impossibly smooth for someone looking like _that _at 7 in the morning.

"Heh," I smiled sheepishly. "Mornin'. Uh, you think I could come in? It's a bit chilly out here, you know?"

He simply spun on his heel and walked back into the house, which I took as my cue to follow him.

I've always loved Marluxia's house – it's just the right balance between clean and messy to make anyone feel at home once they've taken a few steps in. It's a very organized mess, with random camera parts splayed over the coffee table. It's pretty big as well, for somewhere where he used to live alone. There's a TV room and a games room and he installed a mini gym as well (It beats me where he gets the money from).

I spotted some help unfinished Chemistry homework and a Design Tech folder still in its shiny plastic wrapping. _Oh well. At least I'm not the only one Miss Porter__'s going to kill._

"Demyx! Get your ass upstairs!" he yelled.

Man, don't you just hate it when you have to put effort into life? I skipped up the stairs _(Hey, where'd Zexion go?) _and stop outside his blue bedroom door.

"Are you decent?" I asked through the door innocently.

"As decent as I'll ever be."

"So...uh..."

"I have clothes on."

_Phew._ Awkward situation diverted.

Mars' room is almost the same as the rest of the house but it's amazingly different. The walls are exactly the same colour as the rest of the house – at least the walls you can see. He's totally plastered them with photos of every event in his life his deems important. There are lots of his parents, and a few of his other relatives I've met before. There are some of birthday parties and some of recent raves (Most recent: Lychee Rave. ...What? It needed to be done). And there's where he scuffed his knee while I was teaching him to rollerblade. And there's even a picture right about his headboard where Axel and Roxas got caught up in a moment staring into each other's eyes. (A true Kodak moment). Mars takes his camera absolutely everywhere with him - we're pretty sure he's going into Nature photography.

"Tie?"

"Here," I threw the tie over to him whilst I rearranged my collar.

"So, princess, good summer?" (Why he calls me princess is a story for another time...)

"As good as it gets."

"I hear you met Sexy Zexy," he said as he walked to his ensuite.

"Yeah, I met Zexion alright." _Sexy Zexy? I wonder if he calls him that to his face..._

"So...what do you think?"

_I think he's real pretty._

"He seems...nice."

"Oh, come on Demyx! You've got to have something better than that!" Mars calls to me from his bathroom. A whooshing noise starts up so I guess he was brushing his teeth or preparing to put his face of or something, and two minutes later he emerges from the bathroom, looking fresh as a daisy.

"Over here." He motioned to me from the doorway. "Chop chop."

He put the blue material around my neck and begins to do the loop-de-loop thing I can hardly ever remember. My specialties don't exactly fall into this area. I'm a professional slacker. A professional slacker who has been wearing that damn tie for years and still has no clue to how to tie it up.

"Don't think you can get out of the question."

"Huh?"

"Zexion! What d'you think? Has he been nice to you?" he asked interestedly, like a protective sibling.

"Oh yeah, he's...really cool?" (I hate how that came out like more of a question than a statement.)

"Demyx, princess." He tightens my tie, almost menacingly, with a sceptical look on his face. "Come on, straight guy to gay guy here. Do you read me? _What do you THINK?_"

I scoffed. "Straight my ass."

"Dem."

"Okay! So...I might have a crush on him. Just teensy one. But please please _please _don't tell him. I've only known him for, what? 2 days? I don't really know yet."

"Oooooh~. Well, I'll just tell you to be careful with him, alright? No one likes to see princess get hurt."

"Once again – straight my ass. And what do you mean?" But before he even got the chance to hear my question he'd disappeared into his bathroom against, leaving me alone. (For future reference, always take Mars' advice. I probably wouldn't be here now if I did.)

While my friend was doing whatever he does in there, I decided to stroll around his house. Maybe find some food. I walked down to the kitchen with my hands stuffed deep into my blazer pockets, where someone was already there, rummaging through the fridge while humming a happy melody (It sounded like that song from that trailer for that movie, you know the one?) By this time, Zexion had changed into his uniform as well. His white dress shirt was rolled up to his elbows and the blue trousers looked a little big on him. Surprise flooded his face when he turned around to find I was watching him.

"Hello...again," he mumbled, clutching something to his chest and stepping back, effectively shutting the fridge door.

The thing he was holding so dearly was a carton of orange juice. (Innocent. My favourite.)

"Awesome! Juice!" I grabbed it from him. Pink covered his nose and he opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but he'd decided against it. "Cat got your tongue?" Yes, I was being a five-year-old. Making fun of my crush. I'm quite obviously gonna go far with this approach.

Once again, he opened his mouth. Reminded me of a fish he did. But something came out in the end. "I suppose you're staying for a while then?"

We spent the rest of the morning making pancakes and toast before the others arrived. It was...the funnest morning I'd had in a while. Just hangin' with my new friend. Just hangin'.

* * *

_Mmm...yeah...so, if anyone wants to tell me a suitable men's jeans size? I've not got any experience in this specific field of life. Any help would be greatly appreciated :)_

_Review, pretty please! Love virtually felt through the internet via reviews make my own little world go around...  
_


	3. Socialize Converse Recreate Party

Chapter 3 : Socialize. Converse. Recreate. Party.

Roxas ate three entire blueberry muffins that morning (Mars saw it as some sort of a reunion gift) and he polished off another as we walked into the main building of our school.

Hollow High School is one of the oldest buildings in town, and the tallest. It used to be the Research Institute. (But you already knew that, didn't you?) The white paint peels off the walls at snail's pace and the burgundy of the desks have been graffitied over more than a thousand times. With proclamations of deep affection (I luv Weezer) and forever inspiring messages (HAMSTERZ RULE!).

The place may be old, and the toilets may smell like a camel in summer, but school is like my home away from home. Where I hang out with all of my non-biological brothers and sisters and parents and kids and fourth cousins thrice removed.

Right now I'm in my 7th and final year. Obviously I know the place from top to bottom by now. I know what happened to that rat they found in the Modern Foreign languages department. I know which teacher was caught shaving their legs after hours in the Lab 109 (and that knowledge will scar me for life). I do _not_ know why room 57 and room 12 are next to each other, or why rooms 66 through 71 are missing. Nobody does. We don't ask questions.

I slid into my desk into the back corner of the upstairs History room. Since it's on the top floor, you can see for miles out on a clear day. Sunlight poured into the room through half-opened blinds. You could see all of that dust that had built up over the summer floating in the air. The window overlooks the river and the vast open space on the other side of it. Whenever I see that view, it just makes me feel at peace with myself and the world around me.

At the one desk next to me, a chair scraped against the flooring. My gaze switched from the glass to Zexion.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" He asked me. _Lucky!_

"Why certainly. I'd be honoured to have you as my desk mate."

Zexion gave me a little smile and dumped his bag on the floor next to mine.

Up until the end of Autumn Term (that was a few weeks back) I sat next to him, and needless to say we became friends. Great friends? Yes. Best friends? I liked to think so. I'm never really _too _eager to classify someone as my best friend. What if they don't classify me as their best friend? What if they think I'm just being clingy? He was just my really great friend. .../Crush.

The October holidays marked the first rave of the academic year. It was Axel's annual birthday party. Every year since I've known him he has hosted the best parties ever. On his 7th we went to see the circus and got free pies. On his 8th the circus came to _us_. On his 14th we ran away to Paris for a day (all 60 of us). On his 16th...uh...well...I'm not at liberty to divulge that information.

...

No. Really. It's not a joke.

This year he was getting back at all of those nerds who had unprovoked grudges against dressing up. Oh yes. There was going to be a _theme. _

Over the years I've had my fair share of themed parties. Of course there's Halloween, and Christmas, parties near movie releases, parties _because _of movie releases (I still have nightmares from the 19th of December a few years back. Ugh. Much too much glitter.)

We'd ('We' being me, Rox, Mars, Zex and Ax) been mulling over the theme for weeks. It wasn't the hardest decision we'd ever have to make, but it was certainly an important one. If we chose a shitty theme, well, that was my head down a toilet every day for the next week. (I was only scared because there were some pretty big guys who'd failed their classes at least three times).

In the end, we decided to have a Great Movies theme. (Hereby, Twilight and any affiliates were banned at all costs. We said _Great _Movies. The glitter couldn't be doing anyone any good.)

A _list_ had been made. A very important list. It was the official list of acceptable movies to cosplay. (Though I know cosplay-ing is for only for thirty year olds, the Japanese and total nerds...we may all just fall into the total nerds category. Wait. I think that Axel has some Japanese roots...)

Axel was going to be Cap'n Jack Sparrow. (Don't mock me because I know how to speak pirate, matey.)

Roxas was going to be Robin Hood. Only because it was the coolest kid's costume we could find. When your choices are Cinderella, Robin Hood and Spider Pig... When you're not the person who's gonna wear it, you'd gladly choose Cinderella, right? I'd even give up my title as 'princess' just so I could see Rox in that silky sky blue dress, but we all can't get what we wish for, unfortunately for some.

Zexion is one of the many _'_theme haters' I speak of. When we used to go out with each other, just to the cinema or whatever, he stuck to his blacks and blues for the most part. It can't be said that he doesn't have a sense of style, but it gets repetitive after a while. Or maybe my expectations are just a little too high. There was that one summer where I _had_ to be wearing each and every colour of the rainbow, each and every day. (Mission: Failed. I completely forgot indigo ever existed. And maybe I skipped over orange too).

We gave him some gentle shoves in the right direction.

"If you don't dress up I can't be your friend anymore."

The tactics of five-year-olds always work the best.

"Demyx. Don't do this."

"B...but, if _you _asked _me _to do anything I'd do it for you! I thought you were my friend? What kind of friend doesn't do another friend a favour, huh?"

"I have told you time and time again. It's not in me."

"Fine. I'm not speaking to you."

"Demyx."

"..."

"Dem."

"..." A small sniffle after that silence. For effect.

"Fine. I'll do it. But only if-"

The end of that sentence was cut off by uncalled for glompage from yours truly. (Did you know you need eight hugs a day to feel accepted into society?) Unfortunately said glompage resulted in a broken pinky finger for him and five stitches on my forehead. (Can you still see the scar?)

After a little more gentle shoving, we'd perfected his costume. He was going to be Zorro – nothing _too _adventurous or colourful. Something that would make him unidentifiable in some situs. (Zex loves an air of mystery breezing about himself).

The days until the party came and went and came and went and came. And went. Drugs were scavenged and alcohol was hidden in pillowcases, until _finally _the day came. The day was there and everyone's on their best behaviour until the real music kicks in (The Lonely Island: for the Gangsta times) and the sun goes down. Which was at about six. (I knew it was going to be a long night.)

And thus, it began. Rox promised to stay by Axel's side all night so he doesn't cause too much trouble. (He doesn't cause trouble, not because Roxas is _watching _him, but because _Roxas _is watching him. And he can't cause trouble and look after our little bundle of joy at the same time. He ain't no Superman). Mars is the self-appointed bouncer. (His house. His rules. Which equals no rules except keeping your dirty mitts off his camera.)

Everything starts out fine and dandy. Axel shoves a cup of vodka or two down my throat. Mostly calm, until someone whips out the Guitar Hero in the garage and starts rocking out. About an hour in, Axel and Roxas are spotted making out. (New developments? There were no new developments! When they do this, _I _have to deal with them the next day. _I _have to make them speak with each other again. _I _bloody have to hope they finally realise what they've gotta do by themselves. And hope that it doesn't all explode into a million unfix-able little pieces.)

So, everything's pretty much fine and dandy until I lost my masked hero. When you lose someone at a party, panicking is not an option. People get separated all the time. As long as you're not totally alone, you're good; but I felt I needed to find him. (My reasoning: He was new in town and didn't know too many people. I wouldn't want him getting lonely...or molested now, would I? Believe that's the true reasoning. Or not. I wouldn't). I mingled through the sweaty crowd and downed a few more drinks until I was feeling the buzz and danced for a bit before I went to hang out and worry in the kitchen where all the sober people live. I hoped I'd find Zexion there, but no such luck. People started coming over to the stool next to me and asking me if I was alright. Which I wasn't really. I just said 'yeah, I'm cool' because no one really wants to know about all your problems. I spun on that stool (not the best idea) until the bitter taste of bile started to push at my throat (It was no time for puking, two hours into the party though. I swallowed that puke right back down. Sometimes, you gotta do what you gotta do).

I continued my search for Zorro outside. It was chillier than a freezer in the open air. I found him pretty quickly after that. Sitting on the roof. No company but the autumn breeze.

"Zexy-face! Whatcha doin'?" :D 'Zexy-face' told me that was my expression to a T.

"Contemplating life."

"You did WHAT with a plate?"

(Drunken mind = No comprendre.)

"You want to for a walk with me?" he called down as he stood up.

(I know a few guys who think people who're afraid of heights are total pussies. But I get it. When you're on that edge, it isn't the fear of being so high up that gets you stuck to the spot. It's the fear of falling down down down. I get you acrophobes. I really do.)

Catching the next couple of moments was a humongous challenge for my poor muddled mind. There was just a...sort of blunt noise. The sound...of a body hitting the ground barely made it to my ear drums. A shadow disappeared from sight above us. A ghastly shadow that had lingered for a moment to survey their handiwork.

A sharp crack was what set time back in motion for me. What...what had happened, I was thinking. And why? What did he do to deserve it? (What did I do to deserve it?)

"Zexy...face?" I took a step closer. "Zexy?"

There was no one to answer me though. Only an unconscious, broken heap. Unable to even take in a single word.

We...rang up emergency services (and boy, did they take their time getting there. The entire party had gathered outside to see what all the commotion was about. Celebrations pretty much ended right then). They got there and they hurried his...paling body into the back of their ambulance. Some of us went with him and...and...

I'm going to skip over most of the hospital ordeal. I don't...uh, really like to talk to about, much.

In, approx, 2 weeks, he was back at home with some serious fractures on his tibia and some broken ribs and something broke in his arm too and some other dislocated bits and bobs. The doctors said he was lucky he hadn't popped a hole in his lungs or anything, so they were able to patch him up pretty quickly.

Zexion was being such a bastard about it all. He wouldn't talk about anything to anyone. Not me. Not even Mars, and they're pretty close for cousins. We were all just worried about him, you know? Because somewhere, out there, there was a person who wanted to hurt Zexion. (Or maybe even worse). And when you're his friend and you're only trying to help, that doesn't feel good Even if we hadn't known each other for too long at that point, you don't wanna lose someone you've ...come to care about.

Obviously there's a long story behind this mysterious person. And it is a long story. And you are going to keep your ass on this bench until I'm fucking done.

(...You're allowed a lunch break.)

* * *

_A/N- :) ...That's what I have to say. ...Enjoy your day!_

_Ah, yes, and REVIEW! ::needs feedback::  
_


	4. Bedtime Stories

Chapter 4: Bedtime Stories

When he got out, he took three weeks off of school. I...kind of insisted that I should be the one who brought him all his schoolwork and anything else he wanted. (Maybe _now _we were best friends). I snuggled into his casted arm and fell asleep there practically every night for those weeks. Sometimes, he'd fiddle with my hair and – for Christ's sake. Why him? Ugh!

So, um, yeah. Like a super prolonged sleepover. Some nights we'd watch movies with Mars, and some nights I'd play my Sitar for him if he asked. My Sitar? She's called Arpeggio (and she's stunner). I got her on my eleventh birthday. (Obviously she was like a giant to me then, but we've grown into each other).

He mostly asked me to play this one song by Belle and Sebastian. You probably don't know it though. Unless you're Wonder Woman and managed to keep up with music on this island of ours (and I doubt you are). Zexion told me one time that I had a really beautiful singing voice.

"Heh, you really think so?"

"Without a doubt, idiot. Why would I lie to you?" (Maybe I should have taken my chance and asked him why right then.)

And out of the blue he gives me a peck on the cheek and lies back down on his bare mattress (we made a fort in the hallway) like nothing even happened. He just drives me crazy, this boy does. He wasn't gonna say anything. Sure as hell _I _wasn't gonna say anything. I barely even knew what'd just happened. Unexpected kisses mean mind-mush.

* * *

"Are you comfy now, Demyx?"

"One sec!" Revamping the covers around one last time, I settled into the burrow I'd created myself at the bottom of Zexion's mattress. (FYI, Zexion's bed is just the mattress. He said there was no way he was gonna accept the four poster bed Mars was trying to buy for him. Curtains and all. And being closer to the ground made him feel safer).

This part of the story...is a story. A bit of a fairytale. Zexion had been told it by his late grandma a long time back. He said, "I'll tell it to you, because I might as well tell it to someone who cares, right?" (Do you think there was a deeper meaning behind that? Do you? Do you? I couldn't figure out why he had to say that).

"The story is about a princess."

I almost the urge to blurt out 'Like me?'. Urge successfully controlled.

The only light in the room radiating from my modest old torch, he started. "She was the bravest princess...ever. Her people admired her greatly for her courage. She rode horses through the forest at night. She saved people who'd fallen down wells. Some people even claimed they saw her, uh, abseiling down a cliff by herself."

"But her father, the King, did not think it was safe for her to be doing all of these dangerous things by herself; so he hired a servant boy to accompany her everywhere she went and protect her with his life. He ordered him to report back to him in secret about all of her actions."

"The boy and the brave princess quickly made friends with each other, and soon enough, he was right by her side every time she went horse riding in the dark of night or abseiling off a cliffside. ...And when she saved citizens from wells he held the ropes strong with all of his might."

"However, one day, in the early hours of the morning, the boy was reporting to the King about their previous day's activities, and the brave princess heard them speaking together. Needless to say, the princess felt betrayed. The princess...didn't feel so brave anymore."

"She spent the entire day walking though the towns, trying to cheer herself up. All the townspeople tried to help to, but they could do nothing. She returned to the castle late at night to find the servant boy pacing up and down the hallways. 'Where did you go?' he asked her. But she wouldn't- no, couldn't talk to him. She couldn't talk to someone who had betrayed her trust so badly."

"He begged her every day for week to speak to him again. He regretted telling her father anything. Now he'd realised that what their relationship used to be was more important than anything. Finally the princess agreed to speak with him. Dem?"

"Mmph?"

"There are two different endings to the story. One is...better than the other. One good ending and one sad ending. Which one would you like to hear first?"

"The...the sad one...please?"

I always take the depressing choice first. Shield the negative with the positive after.

"Okay. Sad ending. The princess talked to the servant boy, and he asked to be forgiven. She didn't want to be cruel to him. She was afraid of what would happen if she didn't forgive him. Her father might get angry at her, or the boy might try to get his revenge. So she said she forgave him."

"They started doing things together gain, but it was never the same, because now the princess was afraid. She lived in fear, always frightened that the boy might betray her again, although he never did. She could never trust anyone again... Hey, don't cry on me!"

"Can I know the happy ending now?"

"Naturally. So...the princess agreed to talk to the boy, who asked for her forgiveness. But the princess told him she couldn't forgive him. Not right then. She told him, 'Leave this place, and come back when you think you should be forgiven.' He left the castle as soon as he could"

"It took the princess no more than a month to find it in her heart to forgive him. She realised if her father had ordered him to do what he did, the boy hadn't had a choice. But the boy did not return."

"I thought you said...this was the happy ending..."

"Shh, Dem. We're getting there. The princess was alone again. She started taking adventures again to take her mind off it and she became even braver than before. Ten...almost fifteen years passed before a stranger came to the castle gates, asking for the princess. Of course, it was the servant boy. He had gone out into the world and made a name for himself. The boy had been working hard all those years, only to become worthy of the princess. The brave princess told him she had forgiven him long ago, and they were able to be together again. The princess could trust him with all of her heart and all of her soul. Their trust stood the test of time, and they stayed together for their entire lives. ...The end."

"I never knew you were one for sappy love stories."

"Oh, shut up."

"No, it was really...nice. Thank you...thank you for...telling me..."

"Are you tired?"

"Maybe...a bit..."

"Just go to sleep Demyx."

"Mmmkay...Zex...face...love you..."

"I...love you too, princess. Sleep tight," he mumbled after a few moments had passed. Of course, I couldn't see him with my eyelashes sticking together, but I could feel his dark gaze resting on my head.

That was the first time he ever called me princess.

With friends, it's like there's a level that everyone's on. Like, your closest friends are on the uppermost level – these are the people who you don't actually mind licking your face as a joke, or burrowing into your neck because it apparently smells 'delightful' today. These are the people who call you by the nicknames that are closest to your heart, and you feel comfortable with it. So only the people on this level are allowed to call me princess. Everyone else is allowed 'Dem' for convenience's sake.

On second thoughts, screw that crappy explanation. It isn't working.

(I wanted to be _his _princess. ...I feel like a teenage girl.)

The importance of life-changing decisions is absolutely ridiculous. I hate them I hate them I hate them. But with free will and all that shit, there's no way on earth to escape them. I wish I had a life simulator, where I could try out all of the different choices and then go with the best one. But then that would be like cheating. And I'd never win anything from an experience either.

...Screw that too.

(Can you _feel _that foreshadowing?)

* * *

_A/N: So I woke up half an hour ago and I was all like 'What's the date today? 9th of June...hmm...ZOMG IT'S ZEMYX DAY! Hmm...I'm supposed to be getting on with that fanfiction...'_

_So here I am. Half-asleep. This chapter is like...wholly unnecessary, but I just wanted to write it anyway :) Originally this was only half of a chapter, but then I split it into two, for reasons I don't remember. But the second half/Chapter 5 should be up later today! Up to now, it is really all back-story. Because these people have issues. Back-story should end...relatively soon though. And thanks to all reviewers, favouriters and alerters! _

_x_


	5. Suppose This

Chapter 5: Suppose _This_

(Supposition is a horrible notion.

Nothing is ever known for sure with supposition.

It's just a whole bunch of guesses crammed together into an apparently plausible idea that most people in this world are perfectly willing to accept. Believe this, believe that, they tell you. Sometimes, assuming stuff hurts people.)

I _suppose_ now would be a good time to tell you why I'm the 'princess' of the bunch.

(Heh, I'm totally having a flashback here...) Two years ago, we were the cutest couple to hit the streets, me and Leon. Everyone wanted what we had, and I mean _everyone. _(Mars told me he wished he could have what we have. And this is Mars we're talking about. Sex maniac Mars).

He was eighteen at the time. Much more experienced with the ways of our cruel world. At least compared to my fifteen years worth of experience. I really thought he really was in love with me at the time. But in the end...I don't even know what I was to him. Maybe I was a bit of arm candy. Maybe...I dunno.

Leon...he'd roll up outside the house and _honk honk honk _the horn of his bashed up moped. I'd dash out the house like an excited schoolgirl, not even saying goodbye to Mum and Dad. I'd hop behind him, and he'd secure his spare helmet (with a dragon on) on my head (I'd sacrifice my hair for this dude. You know I felt it), and I'd clutch my arms around his firm waist (It was really firm...) and we'd take a spin around town for a while and we'd always end up at the same hilltop. (It was a pretty place we'd once found to lie down and watch the sunset).

Leon was your run-of-the-mill badass. He'd had a few altercations with the law in his day. He was a bad guy, with a bad attitude. Then he went to some sort of small reform school in the heart of the countryside. And then he came back, supposedly the good guy now. I didn't know him at all at first. We didn't even go to the same school, or hang out in the same places at all.

Every day though, I would see him on my way home from school. Even from across the street I was attracted to this dude. He sent a wink over one day and it sent me reeling. This guy was _good_. He knew what he was doing. Then, one day, I was walking home and he was right there. But not the 'right there' where he was meant to be. 'Right there' as in _Oh my God. He's on my side of the street. _And he was all like 'Hey kid, wanna go catch a movie?'. 'Do not follow strangers' completely slipped my mind as I softly nodded to him. (Technically, he wasn't a complete stranger. I'd heard the stories!)

When we were on our hill I used to sit between his legs (I was past growth spurt stage by then. He was really quite tall). He rested his chin on my shoulder. I'd fiddle with the strings splaying from a ripped patch on his jeans. He'd murmur something to me about his day. So close to my ear that it'd make my little ear hairs stand on end. I'd tell him something about my shitty day (and every day is shitty day when you're fifteen and acne-ridden) and he'd murmur right back, 'Cheer up, princess.' And I'd sink back into his comfy chest and have a little R&R. During moments like those, I felt he really understood me, and maybe even loved me (spots and all).

We had a normal boyfriend-boyfriend relationship. Average. For a while. A while meaning...three days? Then the issues arose when I turned sixteen. Jailbait – no longer. The pressure from him was as obvious as Zexion in a field of flowers (We'll never see it happen, no matter how much we want to).

It can't be said that I didn't try my hardest to avoid the topic at all costs, because I wasn't comfortable with it. At all. Wearing tight pink jeans with a matching shirt in public is child's play – I'm not afraid to say it loud and say it proud. Bit in the comfort of my own room? My boyfriend's room? With someone I'm meant to trust?

_I do I do I do I do trust him. I do. Breathe Demyx. Get a hold of yourself._

Not as easy as you think it is when he's practically sweating lust. (I'd call it desire if that weren't so pre-1914).

Sex. SEX. S.E.X.

'Course I'm not afraid of it now. After Leon, things generally ran their...own course. Uh, nothing you need to know about, you nosey sultana.

I have a lot of friends. (One of them being Mars). Obviously I'd heard of their tales of intercourse and other various related actions. (I'd made it to second base - far enough for me. Sometimes, with Leon, I'd almost make it to third – but I could never reach it. Almost there). Talking about it with someone who you definitely weren't going to do it with is no biggie.

Somewhere in between all this, there was the shag band fiasco.

What? You don't know what shag bands are? Returning to our modest culture giving you a bit of an aftershock?

Basically, they're these rubber bracelet things, which come in about a million different colours. (I've heard of glitter and glow-in-the-dark ones, but have never had the honour of seeing any). Each colour corresponds to a different action. Say, yellow is for hug, pink is for kiss, and then you go on from there. When someone breaks one, they get to do whatever that bracelet corresponds to to you. (But by God are they tough to break. You wouldn't be able to just sneak up on someone and be like 'Oops! Broke your black shag band! Off to the bedroom with you!') I wore them all the time around Leon. Only yellow and pink, and on a daring day green. I suppose it wasn't the greatest idea, since Leon didn't seem to take the hint. Whereas everyone else in a three-mile radius of me did. (It was an unfortunate week for Demyx...)

So it wasn't any peer pressure that got to me. No. It was just him. Axel knew something was wrong when I started acting weird and being quieter than usual. Yet, he wouldn't say anything. A good ol' slap on the cheek from him might've done me some good back then, I suppose, but who knows? Roxas had barely even arrived then. I don't think we'd ever talked. Surely, if we'd been pals, he would have done something, and he would've done it in that blunt and obvious Roxas way he does everything. (When you have something on your face, he will not wait for a bit and then tell you. He will _tell _you. And he will say "You have something that looks like poo on your face." Even though it's only chocolate).

Leon; he was leaning a little (too) close. Kissing a little (too) hard. Staring a little (too) long. Leon's hands searched a little (too) insistently. Wandering a little (too) far. His room was feeling a little (too) small for the both of us.

Claustrophobia kicked in. Leon was pushing hard. Breathing hard. Clutching tight. Sucking. Forcing. (He'd never force me all the way though. He wouldn't he wouldn't he wouldn't. He wouldn't).

"St-stop! Leon!"

"Huh? Princess? Something wrong?"

"Can we...slow down a bit? I really do like you Squall, I do. I trust you. But...not right now. Y-Yeah?" (Squall is his _real _name. Only used in times of total desperation or total tenderness).

_I do I do I do I do trust him. I do. Breathe Demyx. Get a hold of yourself._

"Alright, princess. I can wait, for you. So...wanna play some XBOX?"

My heart was going at sixty miles an hour. My breathing was loud. My hands shook as I tried to concentrate on killing all the zombies drifting their way towards us.

Then, suddenly, I knew something was up. Or I suppose I did. The memory's a tad blurred at the edges. He just suddenly stopped trying. Completely out of the blue. Now, _he_ was the nervous twitchy one.

The truth hit me like a ton of bricks in due time. I was at Mars' house, just catching up on (/copying) homework. Sprawled out on the blue plush carpet in his room, resting from my intensive tennis training regime I'd taken up recently. He'd look over at me anxiously every few minutes, like he was on the brink of completely giving up on everything. (Honestly, cross my heart and hope to die if I'm lying, even his _hair _was deflating).

"Mars? Are you doing alright?"

And then he just started crying like a newborn baby. I knew he hadn't been looking good these past few days, and he was worrying about _something_; but I never would've thought it was _me_ he'd been losing sleep over.

Mars told me to open my fucking eyes, through teary ones of his own.

Leon turned out to be a dirty rotten lying backstabbing good-for-nothing worthless idiotic cheater. (I guess once a badass, always a badass). At least he had the decency to feel guilty about it. He skipped town pretty soon after that. Leaving nothing in his wake but a helmet, a note, and a barely splintered heart.

I tore the little letter to shred and burnt it as soon as I read it. But something extra did come with it. One line said 'Go check flower boy's house - I left something there I thought you might like to keep for old time's sake.' Waiting for me with Mars by its side was a helmet. My helmet. A little sticky note was on the top of it reading 'For Princess'. Which snapped my heart for the last time it could take it that day. Absolute and total depression took control of me for a while. Aweek, tops. Until Axel gave me that slap upside the head I'd need for so long and told me I had to get over it. Now or never.

There're all kinds of different ways to get over things. Without any need for consultation, Mars had decided I was taking the head-on approach. And then it started. It was always 'Princess this' or 'Princess that' and he even got to the point of changing my name to 'Princess' in his phonebook and...and it actually worked. I could never forget what Leon put me through, but...it's a cute nickname, don't you think?

It's hard to imagine that all of that crap only took two weeks to be over with.

That's right: Only two weeks. (Yet, the most intense two weeks of my life.) The reason I don't like to classify it as a real relationship. I barely knew him before we got together. I don't even know how it happened, but I know it happened too fast to be true.

I don't know where he went – it was 'poof! Gone!'. Just like that.

Leon is an example of a person whose history I barely knew. (What excellent foundations to start a relationship on). I suppose it was one of my worse ideas.

He did his disappearing act almost two years ago. I never expected him to come back.

* * *

_A/N: This...is suckish. __;) I never actually planned for Leon to stride in and become a major character. But now...well, we'll just to wait and see, won't we?_

x


	6. Hide Park Corner

Chapter 6 : (Hide) Park Corner

(Just when you think you're making a breakthrough, things go _bang! _right in your face.)

"Zexion..."

"Is there something you need from me?"

He was trying to do some science homework he had due in for the next day. Something about cells and fermentation and whatnot.

Back on his feet and going to school again, I thought he was probably able to stand my questioning again. And anyway, there was no reason not to try. Every day, at least once, I'd hint at it. I mean, _strongly _hint at it.

"Have you got any clue at all?"

He put his pen down and gave me a blank stare. Then he picked it right back up and carried on writing about yeast.

"It was that boy."

_...An answer! A bit of a dodgy one at that. But an answer!_

"You mean...you've known who it was this whole time?"

"What if I have?" _If you have then we have some serious issues we need to discuss..._

"Zexion!"

"I'm trying to work here."

I was a little frustrated with his antics. We were all bloody worried about him! And he knew who'd pushed him off the bloody roof this whole time!

"What boy?"

"The blond one."

"What blond one?"

"The one who stands on the corner of the park at night all of the time. That one."

_Surely he can't mean..._

"...And you're sure about that."

"_Very._"

"...The..._drug dealer?_"

"Yes, Demyx."

"...The one with the green coat?"

"Do you _know _another drug dealer?"

"Uh...I've got to go! Yeah! Mm. Now. So...see ya!"

The blond boy who stands on the corner of the park at night? The _drug dealer _that stands on the corner of the park? With a green jacket on?

There was only one person I knew that fit that description. And that was Vexen.

Back in the day, he was a scrawny, awkward thing. Looked older than he really was. Crazy eyes.

I couldn't really comprehend what Zexion had just told me. Because it couldn't be true. It just couldn't. Mainly because the party had been held at their house. _Marluxia's _house. And Vexen and Marluxia avoid each other like the plague. Vexen'd never voluntarily go there.

And also, last I checked, Vexen wasn't the homicidal type either. Slightly barmy and possibly in need of some psychiatric help? Yes. But he was no murderer.

Zexion obviously didn't know that I knew this 'blond boy' of his. Though he is in our year. It's a bit of a big school; it's possible they've never met before.

I called up Axel as soon as I was out of sight from the house, and told him to come and meet me at the crossroads. There was no way Roxas was coming with us – this dude could turn out to be a force to be reckoned with. (Sorry to sound like some kind of overprotective parent, but he isn't the type of guy we want Roxas to be socializing with.)

Vexen had some 'splainin' to do.

This time, walking downtown at nearly midnight, I wasn't so much into the 'floating' mood. It was more like _stalking._ Axel's pleather jacket was swung over his shoulder (Makes him feel _bad_) and an unlit cigarette was hanging from his mouth. I was wearing a bright orange hoodie and some blue jeans. (I was seriously considering playing 'Good cop Bad cop' for our imminent meeting.)

On the edge of this very park (Right over there, behind the old fir tree) is where Vexen usually takes up his spot, from ten o'clock onwards in winter months. Long after dark, so no one'll see him arrive unless they're looking for him.

As we walked up to him, he wasn't looking like a happy camper. More like a confused camped who'd very much like a few more hours of sleep. He was clad in his usual park skulking attire – worn jeans of questionable cleanliness and his old trench coat. His eyes were red, you could see the blue lines under each of them, his hair was a bit of a tip. He looked like he hadn't had a great day. Only to be made better by the...unpleasant issue we'd come to discuss with him.

"Demyx. Axel."

"Vexen."

"Hn."

(With the male acknowledgment rituals complete, it was time to get down to business.)

"Take a seat." He motioned for us to sit next to him on the brick wall. I sat down with one leg on either side of it, facing him. Axel, shook his head and stayed standing up. "What can I do for you gentlemen today?"

"..."

"How is Marluxia doing?"

"He's cool," Axel said.

"Look, Vexen," I started, "we're not here to buy anything from you."

"...So you're here to have a nice chat with me, are you?"

We don't frequent Vexen's spot much. We used to talk a lot more, but those days were over. Personally, we don't have anything against each other. It's just because of the people we hang out with.

"If we're just going to sit here all night, mind giving me a fag Axel?"

Axel snorted and handed over a cigarette from his pocket. Vexen lighted up and took a breath of it. I dunno what I was waiting for. It was nerves. That was all.

"Demyx."

"Huh? What?"

"Tell him then."

"Yeah...yeah..."

"Tell me what?" Vexen coughed.

"You know...Do you know that blue-haired kid?"

"The one you're always hanging around with?"

"Yeah...well...You heard about his...accident, right?"

"Yeah. What's it got to do with me?"

"He said..."

"What'd he say?"

Axel interrupted, "Were you anywhere near my shindig?"

"Pfft. Why would I be? You know I don't go there anymore."

"Because Zexion said you pushed him."

Vexen took another drag and smirked that barmy smirk with his crazy eyes. Yeah, I was freaked a bit, but that's just his face, ain't it? He looks friendlier in daylight. "Really now? Well, I'm sorry, but you've got the wrong person. I've got nothing to do with that."

And that was that really. Vexen's got no reason to lie to us about something like that.

"Hey," Vexen said, "do you have any idea?"

"Any idea about what?" Axel said, lighting his fag up as well, now that the moment of truth was over and one with.

"Why he would accuse me. What else?"

Earlier on, I'd talked to Axel about Zexion's confession. Because even when he told me, nothing seemed right about it. Axel couldn't believe it either. Said there was no way Vexen was involved in any of this. (There's a minuscule chance that Vexen had supplied the shadow with something a bit dodge-dodge, but it still wouldn't really be his fault). I wanted the dude who had physically put his hands on Zexion and shoved him off a two-story building.

* * *

This is where it really started. I'm talking about the lying.

Because before...not that I'd know...but it'd happened before...but...Christ.

* * *

_Smack! Smack! _

"Hey Smexion. Where'd you live before you moved here?"

_Powpowpowpow! Bang! BOOM! _

"Demyx. I'm not entirely sure what you just said, but that is _not _my name."

_Player Two – Are you ready? 3..2...1... Go!_

"Huh? You act like I called you Sm-...Fer Chrissakes. Pretend I never said it. That's my in-my-head name for you!"

_Ka-chak. BAM-BAM-BAM!BAM-BAM-BAM! Ka-chak. BAM!_

"I can...accept that."

Avoidtion – for the record, is _not _an actual word. (There's a word for it...there really is...can't think of it. Let's leave it at that.)...What was my point again? Oh yeah.

Avoidtion – this is what I was doing. After pursuing the subject of the roof disaster for so long, now I was avoiding it like...like Vexen and Mars avoid each other.

I was a little sceptical of Zexion. Because, well,_ who does that? _And by 'that' I mean falsely accusing someone of a crime. Attemptin fucking murder at that. He was acting so flippant when he said it as well. I'd been racking my brain for an answer.

I hadn't told Mars about his confession yet. Mainly because Marluxia probably didn't want to hear anything that involved Vexen's name. But also because Zexion is a cousin. And he seems a close one at that (I only ever see _our _cousins every once in a blue moon). Mars is such a great friend to me, I can't exactly walk up to him and start talking shit about his cousin, alright. Because, well, _who does that?_

So now we were in Axel's bedroom, with the five of us in there. Me and Zexion were duking it out on some random 18+ game Luxord had leant us. Soldiers, zombies, aliens – a free for all. Everyone was trying to kill everyone else. No plot whatsoever. (_This _is Axel's favourite game.)

"Answer the question then! Why?"

"Can I just try and-"

_Game over._

"Ha. Try 'n' what?"

Zexion growled at me – but once again, the tactics of a five-year prevailed. All I've got to do is a little pouting and he gives in. We switched places with Axel and Roxas who were chatting on the bed so they could have a turn. (And Axel was bound to let Roxas win. What? You don't wanna see your crush's happy face?)

"So, where'd you live?"

"Vaguely north of here."

"Oh...cool...Where exactly's that?"

"Well...when you look out of the window in registration," (So this is over the river somewhere), "I think you can see part of my old town in the distance."

"Oh really? That's cool. And _why'd _you move here?"

"Well," Zexion said, "Mother and father travel around a lot for their work. They thought it would be easier if I stayed with Marluxia."

Marls coughed and sent a look over from when he was sitting over on the opposite wall, like, by the TV.

"So you could carry on with school and stuff, right?"

"Mmhm."

"What do your parents do then?"

"Father is a journalist, and that's why they have to move around a lot. Mother works as his photographer."

"_Zexion._"

Zexion looked unenthusiastically over at Mars. "Do you have some input to our conversation, Marluxia?" But the way he said that...the way it came out was so cold. _Hostile _even.

"...No," Mars said, rather unenthusiastically, back.

Because we seem to have touched on some sensitive ground, I thought it best that I casually change the subject.

"So...what do you want to be when you grow up?"

"I'm going to be a fire truck driver."

(And before you get your hopes up, no, it was not Zexion that said that. He has not magically transformed into a fun loving...fire fighter...)

This little outburst was supplied courtesy of Roxas. Who, for the record, doesn't really want to be a fire fighter. He just doesn't know yet, but it's his best backup option.

"I think I would like to be a zoologist."

"A wha?"

(And now I know what a zoologist is. Totally the highlight of my day.)

Conversation ended blah blah Roxas was adorable about being a fire fighter blah blah...

You know, sometimes I wonder like, how we got to be how we are. The five of us. 'Cause we're all so different and whatnot. We have no similar hobbies (let's just not touch on the fact that we have _no _hobbies) and we all want to be such different things in later life. Chances are, we won't even know each other when that time comes.

And when I do get older, I'm gonna want to look back on all the good times we had together. And all I'm going to fucking remember is this.

...

You want to know the name of the redhead again? He's Axel. What for?

...

What do you mean, 'Axel's walking towards us'?

...

Wha...um...hide me?

* * *

_A/N: Oh! Well, would you look at that. It looks like...plot...? :O I actually had a little mind blank when I re-read this and saw the word 'avoidtion', and I was like 'What was I thinking?' but I've remembered what the real word is now. I hope you know it too, otherwise...I'd be very disappointed in you...  
_

_...I don't like doing dialogue...chapters that are entirely dialogue don't really count. This was hell. Mmm...mhmm... :)  
_


	7. Remember Remember

'Kay...Demyx is being an over-dramatic man-bitch, capice? ;)

* * *

Chapter 7 : Remember, Remember (Which day in November?)

Axel...

Well, you can stay if you like. Though you have to swear you'll not tell anyone what I say. Or where I am. I give you my word that I'll come back. I'll sort it out. Just...not right now. (Eh...introductions. Axel, meet long lost sister. Long lost sister, meet Axel).

I stopped myself crying. Promised myself I wouldn't start again. But here I am. Sniffling away like a newborn.

We're almost there now (and by almost there I mean almost nowhere in particular). This is what I like to refer to as the second most traumatic part of my tragic love story, the turning point. When I think about that abysmal day, the fifteenth of November...when I think about it, it makes me sad. I was feeling hopeful that day. With the feeling that anything could happen. Absolutely anything.

It was the first time that we kissed. Like..._proper kisses._ Okay. Yes I was pissed. He definitely wasn't. Yes- I almost did some things I was bound to regret in the morning. He has the one who led me into the labyrinth – and I didn't know which way to turn from where I was standing. I couldn't even see the bloody choices (I've learnt from my mistakes since then. At least, I hope I have).

The first things I like remembering about it was how ecstatic he looked when I told him he could have an old hoodie of mine he'd been admiring. It's an old, tatty blue thing. I always kept it on the doorknob of my wardrobe, but never wear it. Mainly because it hasn't fit since I was thirteen (which was previous to the amazing growth spurt). I've only kept it because it's still ridiculously soft – and that draws me to things. (Recently, I bought a notebook with really smooth pages. I like to rub the pages against my face. What? You think that's weird? Then Axel can tell you about him and the crocs shop. Ah...good times...good times...) There was going to be a get-together on the park, and he'd just been looking at it for so long...

"Really?"

Because it's the little things that count.

The early morning sun made is hair shimmer and his eye sparkle (It all felt a bit Disney-move-esque).

"Yeah. 'Course"

If I only got to remember a single thing about that day, it would no doubt be that smile.

A sudden flash blinded us out of our small reverie.

"Zexy-poo! That was too cute!"

"...Please refrain from using the word 'cute' when describing me.'

"Tell that to the camera. Come on guys! Come see how cute Zexy-poo was before he got all angry at me~!"

It was a day of joy. It was a day of grief. It was the eve of a great adventure. It was the end of a dreadful ordeal (Eh, actually, not really. Thought I'd add it in. For effect). It was the day Axel had been waiting for. It was the day Roxas had been running away from.

"He's here! Happy Birthday Roxas!"

It was Rox's eighteenth birthday. There was no escaping the truth.

Rox hates his birthday so because of some unspecified childhood issue. It happened ages ago, and he won't give us any of the detail. But y'know, it couldn't possibly be that bad, could it? I dunno.

In the true style of idiotic teenagers, we were celebrating this momentous day by having a picnic on this park. Like, by the swings over there. (Shh. Be quiet about the whole 'being in the midst of winter' thing. My common sense might just hear you).

We had the most amazing little sandwiches that looked like only a mum would be capable of making them (the kind so perfectly cut you only see them in animations) made by Roxas' siblings. And we gave him his presents. We were spoiling him rotten in November. Because the rest of his family seemed pretty stiff and old-fashioned, we wanted to make it super special. We even got the siblings in on it too. Sora and his other friend got him this necklace he'd been eyeing up while shopping with Axel. Naminé (his younger half-sister) had spent half a year knitting him a rainbow bobble hat with ear flaps and tassels.

And me, Zex and Axel chipped all our money together to get him an electric guitar. Accompanied by a large rainbow sticker (Er, what? We weren't trying to suggest to him admitting anything with that. Honest). Marluxia gave him the most beautiful photo album. It was so packed full, I wondered if it didn't contain every photo of Roxas from the past...since we've known him.

And Axel (you player, you) gave him an extra little gift of a kiss. And it's surprising because that's the most I've ever seen Axel hold back from kissing Roxas, 'cause usually you're all over him. Then again, usually, you're not so sober. Can't resist his Roxas charm, can ya? That was the sweetest little kiss in the world. I remember his brother watching you and just being angry as a bull seeing red. )Have you even got the familial approval yet? Mrs Roxas' Mum loves you, so there's no issue there. Naminé just wants her brothers to be happy. Sora...may kill you in your sleep if hears you're getting up to any hanky-panky).

Okay. So. Later on, after playing a really vague drinking game in Mars' kitchen (I think the aim of the game was to see would get sloshed last...Naminé won by a landslide. Thought I did have to hold her hair up while she retched into the loo. Not pretty). Zex hadn't joined in. Apparent he's not much of a drinker. Rox used those cheapo energy drinks you get four cans of for twenty munny.

It was hours later. Around midnight I'd say. Everyone was passed out/asleep/sliding in and out of consciousness somewhere in the house. Everyone apart from me and Zex, who were laughing about something random on his mattress.

And slowly - oh so slowly - he'd been shifting closer to me. Not that I minded. (It _was _cold. There's that whole penguin thing where they huddle together for body warmth and all). But bloody hell, I barely even noticed until he was in my lap. Like _literally _IN MY LAP. Like STRADDLING me. That the word?

And he was holding my cheek in his hand, just like...this. A-And he just tucked a bit of my hair behind my ear...just like this. Still laughing all the while. Like any person, I tend to miss a lot of things when I'm drunk, but honestly, there's a humongous gap between whatever was going on here and the rest of the night.

And he whispered in my ear... _"...Demyx...Will you...I want to..."_

And I was just like, "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck."

Because this was my chance. And all of a sudden he was kissing me. Not quite like the earlier Axel-Roxas kiss. Though they may have gotten some tingles. (I wouldn't know. I wasn't quite involved). I'm sure, if my head hadn't been throbbing from the vodka overload there would've been fireworks. A firework show as big as the one's they have in...that one place for that dead dude.

In our...whatever we were doing, he let me take the lead; if you get me (I feel some reverse psychology here. Like, that, in some twisted way, he wanted me to believe I'd initiated...whatever this was). You know, I rolled him over so I was on top, and you know, foreplay, and after a while it was quiet, apart from the breathing and those..uh..._provocative _noises he was making, then it was "''Ave you...ever don th's...'fore?"

When we first met, he'd told me (or at least implied) that he'd never been with anyone before in that way. As when he kissed me, it wasn't the kiss of a boy who had 'never really known' because they've 'never done anything'. Even if you're a person who hasn't been in many relationships, you can freakin' _tell _when a person knows what they're doing, or if they don't. _I _have been in...numerous relationships, and it just didn't all add up.

_"Ah...no...Demyx..."_

All in all, it should have been much more awkward. And much less too-sexy-for-his-shirt Zexion.

"God..." and after making a hickey or three I'd had to ask where he kept his...y'know...stuff for this. As even if you don't have any use for it (yet) it's good to...know. To have. To maybe...prac- Gah! I'm a pervert pervert pervert.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!" is the sound of my heart breaking. Or maybe just a few nerves in my ear. Also, for good measure, my male pride.

There I am, kneeling over Zexion, trying for the love of all that is good in this world to get my trousers off, horny as hell, and this piercing screams comes and hits me and I feel as though it's just ruined my life.

For a while, I didn't turn around. I wanted one more moment to stare at the beauty that is a half-naked Zexion underneath me. Still, all good things must come to an end. The light bulb in the hallway well and truly obliterated the moment. When I do turn around, Naminé is standing there like a doll (one of those creepy ones that go 'I love you' then try to stab you to death in the middle of the night).

Zexion said nothing, but he'd partly turned over and buried his face in his lone pillow.

"Uh...hey...Naminé..." Completely lame. I know.

Not my fault she's standing there like she's never seen two guys getting it on in her life. Then again, she is 15. I'd be worried if she had. It's also not really commonplace to stay and _watch._ Then again, she does live in our town. The town with proportionally too many non-hetero people for its own good. Where she's technically invited to all parties within thirteen streets of here strictly because she knows Mars well.

Anyway – getting a bit off the point there – I legged it out of there with my shirt and dragged the girl with me, slamming the door shut on the way out of course.

Once I was sitting on a kitchen stool with my shirt on and my fly done up, with Naminé fidgeting next to me, my head started to clear up from the daze I'd been in. There was a second of clarity. And then, well, some fridge logic.

What the fuck had just happened. WTF dude.

"I'm so sorry Demyx! I-I-I was just looking for the bathroom! I-I was feeling sick again..."

"No sweat. Actually, thanks. I think I needed to get out of there."

Because what'd just happened in there was very much confirmation that he liked me like I liked him (or maybe he was just feeling up for it). But in my head, it wasn't meant to go like that. I wasn't meant to be piss-drunk and Zexion wasn't meant to make the first move. It's annoying when you spend so long making perfect plans in your head, something happens, and it's like 'Oh, so there was no need for any of that stress at all. Awesome.' And even before _that_ happened we were meant to have the bleeding _feelings _talk! So Zexion wouldn't be shocked into a relationship and so I knew where we stood. But we'd been flung into the deep end (which was entirely the fault of Zexion and his dammed sexy voice) and neither of us apparently wanted to swim.

Naminé didn't really say anymore. She gave me a glass of water then I led her to the bathroom, in case.

When I went back to check on Zexion, there was no one in the room, and the window was wide open (It's okay though, as the room's on the ground floor. No more falling from ridiculous heights). I thought he must've gone out for some air. I did check around the house and outside. He must've been quick to go.

The next morning there was no room for awkwardness as everyone had hangover the size of the Earth. Apart from Roxas. There was also no room for awkwardness because Zexion wasn't even there.

Naminé probably shouted it out in her sleep or somethin'.

"Demyx?" Rox asked from across the island.

"Mm?"

"Uh...good morning! Did you...sleep well?"

"No, sunshine. I didn't actually."

"Oh...Would you like me to make you a smoothie?"

"That'd be great! Thanks."

"OK!"

Everyone is kind of absolutely silent at this. And Mars is giving me a funny look. "Princess."

"No we did _not _do it."

And everyone lets out a sigh of relief and starts up little conversations of their own. All I can do is bash my head on the island a few times to check if this is real. The _least _you guys could've done was ask me if I was okay. Did I look okay? I sure as hell didn't feel okay.

"Has anyone seen Zexion this morning?"

"Noooope. Think he's still sleeping."

We looked and he wasn't sleeping though. He still wasn't back from where he went the last night. We left him to come back on his own though, as Zexion's a big boy who wouldn't take too kindly to us forming a search party. No one was in the mood anyway.

What would we say when he got back? Oh, sorry, we were all really tired so we didn't bother to call. Want some smoothie?)

When he did get back, he looked roughed up round the edges. Like Vexen on a bad day. Which really isn't any good.

"The fuck happened to you? Fall in a ditch?" as you put it so eloquently Ax.

"I went for a walk."

"For more than half a day? What'd you do?"

"I went to Luxord's."

"...Then fell in a ditch?"

"I tripped in the dirt, okay? Stop asking me questions!"

"Don't get yer knickers in a twist! Can't a friend ask a friend if he's all right."

"No, one may not Axel. I'm going to my room."

And awkward silence ensues.

"Hey! Remember to take your shoes off! Trailing dirt all over my house..."

I told the others I was going to go upstairs and ask him what was up (and to secretly attempt that feeling conversation. That would've been a good time to get at it right?).

Could Zexion do something that wasn't gonna worry us (me) for a change? Coming home covered in grazes and cuts and what looked like the beginnings of a black eye wasn't helping me or him or anyone else.

So I was gonna go and check on him. To ask a sarcastic question about his ditch adventure. Then I saw something glinting in his dirty footprints by the door. I though nothing suspicious of it – it was small, silvery and shiny, so most likely it was 50 munny.

I could've been 50 munny richer and so much happier if that'd turned out to be true; but when I bent down to pick it up, it was Griever, it I was like 'Whoa.'

Griever is a lion-shaped pendant with this cross like thing under it (I'd show it to you but it's since been returned to its rightful owner). Cutting to the chase - Griever belongs to _Leon._

I'll give you a moment to digest that.

...

Done already?

Leon. Leon Leon Leon.

What would you have done were you in my shoes? Would you have stormed right around that corner and demanded an answer? ...Probably. (What would you've done Ax? Set fire to something in your immediate vicinity? You know how Mars gets about you setting fire to his house...)

Apart from the fact I was still drunk from the night before and I didn't trust myself to make it past one corner without knocking myself out cold, there was no reason I shouldn't have done that. (Oh yeah, and the fact I'm accustomed to fleeing from confrontation). So I went back to the kitchen and quietly gave it to Mars. Who, now I think about it, should've have been more surprised and less...exasperated.

"Hmm. What's this doing here then?"

"Dunno. I wanna go on a walk. Will you hold my hand?"

"Sure thing, princess. Let me get my shoes and we'll be off in a sec, 'kay?"

"Mmkay."

* * *

_A/N: Oh. Lookie there. I ended that in a completely random place. But no worries, that is not technically a cliffhanger because the next chapter doesn't carry on from there. It's a whole other anecdote XD_

_And anything in italics, like what Zexy says when he's being way too sexy and droolworthy (or when there are random present tense thoughts thrown in), Demyx doesn't actually SAY that. Imagine the supreme awkwardocity of repeating things like that. The italics are just for the Zemyx goodness :D_

_Demyx's drunkness = When you drank too much the night before and instead of having a hangover the next day you're still completely sloshed. Fun-ness..._


End file.
